Page 128 of Wreckage

Dad gave us a brand-new SUV for the trip. I knew why. We’d vetoed a plane ticket immediately. The only other option was a train or a bus, and that was a hell of a trip to make in either of those.

Dad helped us stock it full of food. He didn’t say anything. He simply started packing. Maybe we’d lost our minds a bit, but we’d each taken to having new quirks regarding food and drink. I had it stored all over the damn place. Troy was worse.

I knew Dad didn’t want us to leave, but we needed to return to our lives. The longer we stayed here, the more we were reminded of everything. Getting back to normal would help us; at least, that’s what my therapist said.

Dad’s eyes were misty when we said goodbye.

“Call me,” he murmured, gripping my shoulder tightly.

I nodded. “We will.”

He looked between us, his brows furrowed in worry.

“I don’t want you boys to go,” he said. “Not when you’re still healing. Troy, your knee…”

I swallowed hard.

“I know,” I whispered. “But we have to, Dad. We need thistoheal.”

“I’ll be fine,” Troy added. “My knee is almost perfect again. I don’t even need the crutches anymore.”

Dad sighed and pulled me in for a hug, his arms tight around me. He did the same to Troy, squeezing him just as hard.

Finally, we climbed into the car, pulled onto the road, and left.

The road stretchedout in front of us for what seemed like forever. We drove off and on, switching out when one of us got too tired. Our goal was to travel as fast as possible. Music played softly on the radio, but neither of us really listened.

We started talking about Mom midway through the trip.

I hesitated before asking. “You ever wonder why she never reached out?”

Troy was quiet for a long time before sighing, his fingers tightening around the steering wheel.

“Because she’s not our mom,” he said.

I looked at him sharply. Dad had said as much when I’d talked to him about it. I didn’t know Troy felt that way, too.

His jaw was clenched as he focused on the road.

“She left,” he continued. “Years ago. And Lacey—Lacey was our mom. Not her.”

I swallowed, my throat tight. His words hurt because we hadn’t been great to Lacey, but she’d been so kind and good to us, always baking birthday cakes and giving the best Christmas gifts. I hated we hadn’t given her a chance.

Dad had told us long ago that our real mom had started a newfamily, and we had siblings we’d never met. I wondered if they even knew about us, if she ever thought about us, even now after everything, if she ever cared or just pretended the entire time.

Troy must have read my mind because he let out a bitter chuckle.

“She didn’t call because we don’t exist to her,” he said. “She didn’t return Dad’s calls because she doesn’t fucking care, Adrian.”

I hated that it made sense. I hated that it was true.

I went silent and stared out the window.

Maybe it was time to let her go.

We drove for miles,talking about everything and nothing. Eventually, the conversation circled back to Elena.

“What’s the plan?” I asked.

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